


Maelstrom

by FairyLights101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9271838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: You never did stop drowning. And the great wave of Kageyama just threw you to the bottom of the ocean.Oikawa smiled faintly and cleared his throat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kiss meme requested at my tumblr, [ fairylights101writes](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/) by momokisaki!  
> 22\. "It's the end of the world" kiss  
> 40\. Against a wall kiss

**** Oikawa surveyed the locker room. It was full of bodies covered in sweat that had long since cooled and dried away, with heads bowed in shame. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the typical jokes from Makki and Mattsun were noticeably absent. They just stared at the bags that lay between their feet, or at hands that had finally faded from their reddened states back to a more natural color. Bruises and floor burn dappled skin. Tear streaks stained cheeks. He didn’t clap his hands together. He didn’t make any noise. He just stared at his team for a good long moment. 

He closed his hands. 

The weight of the ball lingered, even though hours had passed since he held it between his palms. His knee ached from where it had smacked the floor in the final volley. The ball rasped across his skin for the final toss, straight to Iwaizumi, again and again. Phantom feelings all over his body, again and again. Reminders of every little thing he’d done - especially the things he’d done wrong.  _ I failed this team. I should have tossed better. Should have received better. Should have done better. That toss to Iwaizumi was off - not much, but enough. Just enough. _

Oikawa rolled his shoulders and spread his hands, and with that he pretended he was parting those murky thoughts like Moses and the sea. Foolish, because the puddles remained underfoot and the waters lurked, sucking at their boundaries and waiting to crash back in. But it was okay. He would be fine until he was alone, doors shut tight and lights snuffed, a perfect stage for the tides to rush back in and drown him in.

_ You never did stop drowning. And the great wave of Kageyama just threw you to the bottom of the ocean. _

Oikawa smiled faintly and cleared his throat. One by one heads and eyes rose to meet him. Watari dragged his hand across his face. Kindaichi sniffled quietly. Iwaizumi just stared, eyes dead. Oikawa’s heart twisted. But he barreled on, reckless and careless in the eye of the storm, as tiny trickles of water gathered at his feet. “I want you all to know that I’m proud of you. More proud than I’ve ever been.” 

All eyes were on him, slowly growing wide and coming alive as he spoke. 

“Today, just like every other day, I put my trust in you. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t believe you would do your jobs - receive every spike and serve you can, toss with accuracy, power through their blocks and use impenetrable ones of your own, and more. Today, just like every other day, you did not let me down.” 

Kunimi’s eyes shifted - guilt maybe, or grief. Kyoutani’s throat worked, as though he was trying to swallow something difficult.  _ Maybe his own worthless pride. _ Oikawa managed a smile, fragile behind a facade built with straight white teeth and a pretty face. The little rivulets of water came together, formed a stream that lapped at his ankles, hungry for more. 

“You didn't let me down because you displayed talents you have worked tirelessly on to hone since our journey together began. You have all improved, as players and as people, and I can truly say that it has been an honor to play with you.” 

There were tears again now, painted down Makki’s cheeks and dripping into Watari’s cupped hands. Oikawa just smiled wider. “Yahaba, I entrust this team to you. Guide them well and make sure you lead them in games with your head held high.” The second year sniffed and jerked his chin up in acceptance, eyes blazing with determination as his hands balled into fists. 

Iwaizumi stirred then, a slow uncoiling of limbs from his hunched over position until he sat up, eyes brighter.  The waters rose higher, darker, and Oikawa could hear the sound of his storm drawing close, the eye leaving. It howled. He straightened his back and watched Iwaizumi, eyes lidded. 

“Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi said, voice still rough from where he'd cried after the match. The wing spiker twitched and looked up, eyes wide with shock. “I know you've been absent, and sometimes you're abrasive with the team, but you've grown in the time you've been back with us. The coaches, Oikawa, and I see potential in you to make a fine co-captain, as well as ace.” 

Kyoutani’s hands shook and so he clasped them together and dipped his head in quiet assent. No one argued that. And for that, far more of his  _ worthless pride _ swelled in his chest, a sweet, hot tar that stuck to his lung and throat, made his eyes burn. Fragments of individual talent, shards from bowls broken by graduation after graduation, had already come together, seamed with gold to make a new masterpiece that would one day fall apart too when the tides crashed in once more to sweep them together or apart. In tides just like the one that had risen to his chest, rippling with secrets that darkened it’s waves, reflecting back a monster in disguise. He smiled. 

“One last time.” 

They huddled in together and broke it down one last time before they pulled back, eyes damp once more. The waters were at his chin, a thick, viscous river. The winds clawed at him, begging for release. 

_ Not yet. _

He patted his teammates on the back and high-fived them all one last time as they walked past him through the locker room dorms and into the hallway, heads a little higher, determination in their eyes. Kindaichi and Kunimi, the latter’s hand on the small of his friend’s back. Watari, Kyoutani, Yahaba, all three with matching expressions, hardened ones of intense thought. Mattsun and Makki, the former still halfway shell-shocked, reeling. “I could’ve stopped it,” he whispered, grief-stricken, guilty because they’d taken him out before the final volley to rest and bandage his dislocated finger. Makki just squeezed him tighter. 

And then he was alone except for Iwaizumi, who did not go for a high five or a pat. He was still seated on the bench, eyes on Oikawa, almost like he too could see the unrelenting ocean of pitch water that sucked at him, teasing him with gruesome reflections as the storm moved in. 

_ The team is gone. I’m not captain anymore. This is not my team anymore. My locker room, my gym - soon it won’t even be my school. My world has ended.  _

Oikawa cracked. His hands wobbled as they rose again, this time plaintive, imploring. “Hajime.” Green eyes snapped up and abruptly came alive. Hajime surged to his feet, life and fire sparking in his veins as Oikawa’s dams shattered and he fell to pieces, the tide rushing in, a deadly crush, as the storm unleashed it’s fury. 

He collapsed into Iwaizumi’s arms, and hands gripped his biceps tight, held him up. Strong arms held him up as slow steps walked them back until his spine was to a wall, cold, as grounding as the hot chest that pressed against him. His eyes screwed up, the tears blurring everything, every little feature on Iwaizumi’s face, perfections and imperfections alike. The thunder of his heart rolled in his ears and his breaths became the very gales that tore at him, threatening to rip him apart. He reached up, touched Iwaizumi’s face with trembling hands. 

_ My worthless pride means nothing to you. You know me. You  _ know _ me. Save me, Hajime. Save me from the end of my world. _

Fingers curled into his hair and dragged him down into a rough kiss, desperate on both ends. He scrabbled for purchase on Iwaizumi’s face, his neck, his hair, even as his legs shook, but Iwaizumi crowded in further and pinned him up on that wall, one hand still tight and hot on his bicep. His kiss was fire, ravaging Oikawa as Iwaizumi bit at his lips, licked his way in. Their tongues slid together, but Oikawa just let Iwaizumi do as he pleased, prodding spaces he already intimately knew, nipping at Oikawa’s tongue and lips. 

His fingers tightened, tugged on Oikawa’s hair until his scalp ached, but he just whimpered and let Iwaizumi keep going. The hand on his bicep shifted, grabbed his hip, and pushed him harder against the wall as Iwaizumi pressed closer. 

His body draped over Tooru like a blanket, heavy and fiery, and he greedily pulled Iwaizumi closer and closer, aching for more. For the way their mouths rolled together, frantic and careless. For how Iwaizumi sucked on his tongue, nipped at his lips. For the way Iwaizumi kissed him like he was  _ everything.  _ Their lips pressed too hard together, their teeth clicked, almost painful, and Oikawa was sure he could taste blood. 

But every lick, every bite, every exhale gasped across his mouth and face, sang of bitter desperation, sweetened with notes of love. There in how, after God knew how long, Iwaizumi slowed down the frantic pace of the kiss until it morphed into a slow, languid slide of bruised lips. And it was then that he realized that that endless dark ocean no longer threatened to drown him, and the hurricane that had threatened to eat him alive had burned away, all in Iwaizumi’s searing touches. 

His fingers tightened in the collar of Iwaizumi’s shirt and he tried to haul him closer, but Iwaizumi leaned back and finally broke their kiss. Oikawa’s eyes fluttered open and slowly came to focus. On the perfections and flaws of Iwaizumi’s face - the scar on his lip, the thin freckles on his nose, the eyebrow that started that much further ahead than the other. The tears that stained his cheeks too, traced from blood-shot eyes down rosy cheeks to reddened lips. 

“You’re not alone. Don’t think you are tonight.” 

Oikawa blinked slowly, and then a small smile curled his lips. “The same to you.” 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, not even when he slumped forward into his broad chest. Those thick, muscled arms just quietly wrapped around him and held him tight as their breathing and hearts slowly fell back into a natural rhythm. Oikawa smiled, kissed Iwaizumi’s neck.  _ Thank you. Thank you for saving my world. _

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving a comment if you liked this would be super chill. Thanks.


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